How would you feel, if Antonio promised to unveil for you the mysterious, dark, underbelly of consciousness, would you be afraid?
In my estimation, fear seems a normal reaction. After all, imagination begs us consider the realm of influence to which we would ascribe the title, Master of Darkness.
What form of Ogre, or Devil incarnate, must be powerful enough to successfully derail, what one would expect should be, the GodSelf ability to express a life of Eden?
Time and again, Antonio's revelations had unequivocally proved my true identity to be the totality of all manifest reality.
I don't mean to appear ungrateful, however, the bla bla bla how big "I AM" can get long in the tooth when circumstance bears such a striking physical contrast to the obvious truth of day to day life.
Knowing myself to be eternal LOVE, GOD, or LIGHT if a less theatrical title were selected, is truly a wonderful realisation. Warm and fuzzy as the GodSelf makes me feel, I would be remiss if I failed to redress the most oft refrain I hear.
Why am I, or any of us for that matter, living in this stinking mess of a world?
You don't have to be a deep thinker to trespass upon the obvious disconnect between the vision of love, juxtaposed, to the fear primed reality we daily experience. Antonio suggests our true identity is love; is it not then reasonable to enquire,
How in the hell did we end up here in this continual state of fear?
Given the choice between bliss and suffering, is it not fair to assume the vast majority would choose bliss?
Who can explain the catastrophe we have created?
Hey, it's not like we got things a little bit wrong!
We can't say we nearly hit the mark of experiencing our world from our GodSelf voice!
Things are seriously messed up here on Earth.
Our state of existence is so far removed from an expression of love, I suggest, with a little more focus sweat and tears, we humans could have created the perfect antithesis of love!
Similar lines of thought, only serve to enforce my belief, any evil manifestation powerful enough to circumvent my desires as a magnificent GodSelf being must be something to behold.
To this end; I expected my final journey with Antonio to embody darkness, snakes, slitherings of all sorts, In the absence of the dramatic, Surely, at the very least, a good deal of pain and tragedy must exist. Assuming a unique flavour of horribleness awaited, I felt something grotesquely feeding in the darkest recesses of my psyche.
Maybe everything in our reality is love and we 'consciousness' represents the evil villain?
I jest of course; but only because I have experienced my identity. Thanks to Antonio, I knew whatever would approach in the moments ahead would be an aspect of the GodSelf. Truly, nothing exists which is NOT the GodSelf. Antonio would never hurt me, I am Antonio.
My eyes helplessly closed just as his fingers neared my temple.
Departing once again into Antonio's world, caused me to realise how I had come to love the moment his fingers touch my forehead. The very instant contact occurs, a new version of reality bathes my consciousness in a tub full of warm singularity goo.
Whether investigating historical events, assuming the spirit of another being, peeking into timelessness, or touching the essence of my own totality, a common element of oneness always prevailed.
This occasion of Antonio allowing me to peek into darkness I knew would prove no different.
The tapestry of my final journey commenced in a hospital room. The equipment seemed dated, possibly as far back as the mid 80's. On the bed was a young woman, on second glance, she looked a lot like me.
Whoa, hold on, the woman on the bed was my mother!
My mind began spinning, I remember thinking, this can't be true. Faint, but discernible, my dad's voice echoed in the background. His voice had a distinctively younger tenor than I could ever remember.
Oh my God, from a third person perspective, I was witnessing my birth.
No sooner had the realisation hit me, focus had turned directly to my infant self. Without warning, I discovered myself enveloped in the conscious mind of my prenatal self. Moreover, I was approaching the moment of birth.
Touching my prenatal mind proved eerily like the experience I had when Antonio first showed me I was God. You may suspect the womb to be dark place. Yet, for lack of a better description, I experienced an impression of light. If asked to describe the experience, I would say the womb is a warm loving and remarkably bright existence.
What a mind trip! Holy cow; Antonio never ceases to amaze, but this trip was a real lulu!
Shortly after assuming the consciousness of my birth, I discovered Antonio was altering my perspective of 'self" by reeling my prenatal self back in time. Like a movie projector stuck on rewind, my sense of consciousness was cast backward. One frame at a time, I was closing in on my personal big bang, the moment my mother's egg was fertilised.
The most compelling aspect of this incredible journey was the realisation, my destination, my entire identity, was GodSelf singularity. To be perfectly succinct.
The process of developing the physical body initiates the death of the metaphysical body.
In time, the pantomime will reverse as the physical, once again, yields to the metaphysical.
The conscious prenatal human on the journey into physical 'being' passes many bright neon road signs informing the prenatal infant physicality and separation lie ahead.
The first sign, indicating the trip to the material has commenced in earnest, is the loving energetic bond the two life forces have with each other. Soon after inception; a strong physical connection between mother and child is forged.
The prenatal child learns to relate to mother as a 'second' being. This realisation develops within the psyche newly formed concepts of physicality and separation. The separate 'self' is the first real shock wave landed upon to the GodSelf being. Part and parcel of realising a separate self exists, is a diminishing sense of oneness the prenatal child sees as its ultimate truth.
Mere cracks in the GodSelf dam, yet worthy of note.
Each minute closer to one’s birth represents a minute farther removed from the divinity of self.
Late first and early second trimester, the prenatal me began to sense sounds from the 'Outer World'. This is the stage where 'self' defined as two separate beings now evolves into the acceptance. 'self' be represented by an ever-expanding stream of 'others'.
Speeding away from heaven, divinity was shrinking fast in the mirror. The third trimester was much like much like riding on the edge of an avalanche. Development of the physical and neurological network supporting the illusion of reality came at me like a video game designer hooked on Ritalin. Sensations of all kinds pummelled, then moulded, my psyche into a state of total submission.
Yes, there is a world! Yes, it is physical! Yes, I am that, I am!
Moments before my birth; I felt as if I were walking a razors edge between my GodSelf identity and the illusory identity I was about to assume. Just prior to birth, I still related to 'self' as a singularity, the totality of all this 'apparent' separation. Yet, even though the truth of my GodSelf remained intact, I could tell my connection with Oneness was being bombarded. Soon, any sense of oneness would forever be eternally replaced by an EgoSelf veil of illusion.
To be clear with you dear reader, I feel I should expand a little on what it means when I say "I knew myself as a singularity".
When I use a word like 'know' I must anticipate you will attach a framework of reason. By example, I would use reason to illustrate to you, I am a woman and not a man. There are however, two very different types of 'knowledge'; experiential and innate.
Experiential knowledge is derived from the collective rewards of experience and reason. Whilst, innate knowledge is a deep seated knowing which defines itself in the absence of physical reality. Another attribute of innate knowledge is found in its representation of a state of 'being'. Whereas, experiential knowledge is derived from a state of 'doing'.
It is important you comprehend my prenatal self existed in a state of 'being'. Accordingly, my sense of knowledge at time of birth was almost entirely innate in nature.
Little do I understand of such complex metaphysical amusements. However, I would venture to say, I can only truly know 'self' by entering a state of 'being'. For it is the very nature of the illusion of physical separation which tricks us into believing my 'self' is somehow separate from your 'self'.
Let us take a moment to consider the awesomeness of how significantly your identity changes at child birth. You, a magnificent GodSelf being, are acting in the guise of dreamlike 'consciousness'.
This dream, a fabulous amusement park where you have become your world. Jumping on the dream train is as simple as handing the conductor the tattered stub.
The stub offers a one-way pass to EgoSelf ignorance. One pass per person, go ahead be brave, leave perfection behind, then see what it is like to be immersed in a world of illusion and maya.
Having accepted this pseudo reality as a playground, I jumped head first into the woods. Wolves barking at my heels. Fare paid in full; the ride commences with me becoming a unique spark of divine consciousness who has chosen to not know its identity.
How do you think we should usher in such splendour?
One would assume a description of birthing events would include adjectives like; reverence, love, caring, honour. Failing a spectacular, loving beginning to the birth process, one would think doctors and nurses would avoid subjecting the newborn child and mother to brutality, horror or mayhem.
Describing my trek into our precious five sense material worlds, I would have to say the experience involved a brutish giant unceremoniously dragging me into a nightmare. There is no point mincing words; the physical trip from the blissful GodSelf peace of my mother's womb to a cold operating room table, was a hard ride!
However insensitive, antiseptic and brutal the introduction to the illusion of separation was on the physical plane, there was also a metaphysical release of the spirit body which was equally taxing. When my mothers water broke, the transition from a state of perfect singularity to the illusion of physical separation began in earnest, Unceremoniously, it was the doctor’s hands and cold instruments which first firmly cajoled my body from the womb.
From the moment the doctor clasped onto me, everything went to hell in a hand basket. With bitter tasting irony, the smack on my ass, merely served to punctuate the heinous ride.
The implicit message; there is no honey to be found here child, a nasty world awaits!
We will slice this little cord, tear you from mother, then commence with our clinical examination. My peaceful world had somehow, without warning, become apocalyptic. Seemingly, an eternity passed before the familiar beat of mother’s heart gave brief, but very welcome, pause to the onslaught of clinical insanity.
This was my beginning, what about yours, your grandchildren?
Do you think we, aided by the collective intelligence of twenty first century science, could somehow manage a few improvements to the birthing process?
As the experience unfolded, the smack in the ass proved multi-purpose. Apropos was its greeting to this crazy ride, as well, it also served to knock me out of my prenatal consciousness. Moreover, the smack on the butt caused me to escape the first person experience.
Plunked into a third person view, I presently found myself being an observer to the event of my birth.
Realising Antonio had transformed my consciousness into that a fly on the operating room wall, I now found myself flitting about as an observer directly above my infant self. With a keen fly like acumen, I established a fresh accounting of my surroundings.
Looking around the room, I noted my mother, father, for that matter, all living beings, were constructed of light. Each vestige of life appeared to cast a separate and distinctive outline of light. Similarities of appearance were noticeable. By example, the brightest light seemed to bulge out around the heart. Tentacle like appendages of light sprung forth from the torso, head, and limbs.
Further observance indicated inanimate objects in the room, even the room itself, shimmered and glowed. Hard edges normally found on physical objects had disappeared. Everything seemed to gel into everything else; I found it near impossible to define one object as being separate or distinct from another.
Surely you are having a hard time imagining my description!
Let me steer you toward the movie "The Matrix". Remember the scene where Neo was blinded.
This world as portrayed in the movie was very close to the hospital experience.
The only exception I would make is that you observe living entities as being significantly brighter than inanimate objects.
Further to this enigma, one would note humans shone more gloriously than other animals, who, in turn, glowed with a more subdued light pallet than did the grass, trees, or plants. The impression left by this experience clearly illustrated a correlation between consciousness and light. What I found shocking was the brightness with which my newborn self shone.
There I was, lying on a cotton terrycloth bath towel, little feet and hands reaching out to nowhere and everywhere all at the same time.
Wow did I shine!
The brightness emanating from my little body was so intense I had to avert my eight fly like eyes. The glory of the moment was captivating, magnificent, blissful beyond description. Looking around the room, my mother and father were both radiant, adding animation to the celebration. Excitement and joy permeated throughout. Never have I seen my mother so beautiful, nor my father so proud.
Looking down on this most joyous scene left me breathless.
Suddenly, amidst this merriest of events, a pique of intuition, lingering in the corner of my mind, bespoke disaster. Moments after processing this strange sense of dread, a distinctive cool breeze traced across my back, making camp at the nape of my neck.
Like an elastic band viciously recoiling to its point of origin, my mind zeroed in on the stated purpose of this journey.
Antonio had promised to illuminate darkness!
Dazzled and transfixed by the splendour of my prenatal trek, I had completely forgotten the objective of this exercise. Fear raced at me like a freight train wildly careening along an alpine pass. My mind fretted to puzzle out a logical conclusion to this ominous revelation.
Befuddled by the exercise of ferreting reason from insanity, I nearly missed the villains grand entrance. Luckily, it had teased enough attention from the corner of my eye to enable a warning. I knew my GodSelf infant body was about to be horrifically violated.
Neon signs, banners and buglers were not needed to assure me the Master of Darkness had arrived. The beast approached, slowly edging toward the examination table upon which my infant self squirmed and cooed.
Seeing the drama unfold below, I was taken aback to note the Master of Darkness, at least in its dealings with me, chose to inauspiciously appear as a shadow. Relief was felt by the absence of great beasts, slithering creatures or countless other fears I had previously envisioned would materialise at this auspicious moment.
Aside from the phenomenal dark energy this beast commanded; its appearance proved no more odious, nor troublesome, than the shadow cast by a big old Oak late on a sunny afternoon.
Benign as the evil appeared, my apprehension escalated significantly as I observed the shadow slowly close the distance to the glowing baby below. Relegated to the role of observer, I helplessly stared with bated breath as slowly this beastly shadow engulfed the tiny body, my tiny body.
Without fanfare, apparently unnoticed by anyone but myself, the shadow consumed the glowing infant. To say my infant body was consumed may represent a confusing image to many readers. Yet, I can settle upon no better qualified adjective with which to hang this portrait.
Content you can be to know, in my heart of hearts, I was assured this shadow’s ominous presence had forever changed how I would define my 'self'. No longer would I be a babe bathing in the bliss of singularity. Quietly, without resistance nor concern, the Master of Darkness had consumed my GodSelf identity.
Illusion instantly replaced truth; whereas my world was now a dualistic playground. EgoSelf division now ruled my consciousness. Metaphysical consciousness, had bathed me in tub of GodSelf love for nine months. Now, the GodSelf had entirely abandoned its hold upon my consciousness. Yielding to the Master of Darkness, my sense of consciousness would forevermore reflect a tapestry of physicality.
Leaving my GodSelf behind, I was given one last glance at perfect love before the devilish EgoSelf, awakened within me a state of fear.
Grabbing a bucketful of air into my tiny lungs, I wailed!
The moment of EgoSelf birth still stings my memory. Tears of sorrow push forth as I pen these words in recollection of my infant GodSelf spirit being consumed. For lack of a better description, I would have to say the event catapulted my infant self into a state of shock.
Clearly, I can recall observing my helpless infant self. Wishing, beyond all reason, the cloud of darkness would somehow disappear to reveal anew the awesome, glorious, glow of my GodSelf body.
Surely, I thought, the GodSelf consciousness must shake itself free from the clutch of Darkness. Alas, I knew the shadow would never leave. Moreover, I now know the shadow, covering my infant self, was the platform upon which the Master of Darkness peddles his great showcase of illusion.
Antonio is a genius; this epic journey was exactly what I had needed. His aim was to disclose the root of evil. Tasked with such a challenge, where else should Antonio begin other than the origin of evil, nay, its very birth.
Never, in a million years, had I thought to perceive evil in the light of something which could be born. Yet, plain as the nose on my face, I had just witnessed the birth of evil. Antonio, in allowing me to experience the scope of my own prenatal consciousness, illustrated what my reality looked like in the absence of illusion.
The purity and singularity of 'self' as a prenatal blob. The path toward separation, culminating with the birth of my EgoSelf and the very moment my GodSelf identity was consumed.
Wow, what a bizarre, mind twisting, plunge into the rabbit hole!
The message I took from this freaky ride left me utterly convinced the root of all evil is not represented by a great beast.
Contrary to the extravagance of my collective fears; there appears to be no hideous villains, smelly aliens, snakes, nor reptilian perpetrators of chaos. The seed of Evil, it would appear, sprouts forth, then bears fruit from the fertile loins of illusion.
Evil, with ominous labels like Satan, Beelzebub, Ego, Archons or the Devil are used. Like monsters in a child's closet, these labels scare us into believing there is good reason for the chaos we see in our world. Flip Wilson, an olden-time comic, used to often spout out the refrain,
"The devil made me do it."
Perhaps, all renditions of evil are nothing more than derivatives of fear. Humbly, I suggest evil to be the flip side of Godself love consciousness. Evil plays an essential role in reflecting the state of duality. In my mind, I see love as the essence of GodSelf, fear as the essence of EgoSelf.
Is EgoSelf bad?
Is EgoSelf evil?
Hell no! The Master of Darkness reflects the choices and preferences we humans make when we lose sight of our true GodSelf nature. The farther we find our collective selves from the GodSelf light, the more our world will unravel in a state of chaos, maya, fear biased greed.
Ultimately, the golden key Antonio provided me was the knowledge all manifest reality is GodSelf reality. Choices, experiences borne of fear, clouded by the EgoSelf, are no less renditions of GodSelf than are choices borne of love.
Seats on the bus I say....
Duality means an equal portion of fear will balance and equal portion of love.
We can label all the fear we see as evil manifestations.
However, I prefer to identify with these moments as God dancing with fear in the darkened hallways of madness.
Our lexicons define the word illusion as representing that which does not have a legitimate home within societies concept of reality. Bombastic, proud and careless, we paint the borders of our reality with the assurance of a steady hand.
Thinking our philosophy beyond reproach, we fail to heed the near invisible, complex web of illusion constructed by what many would call Evil. The Master of Darkness has hidden within the collective psyche of humanity.
The Master of Darkness is the EgoSelf, a trickster who convinces us it does not exist. This beast I like to call the monkey mind. The little monkey preys upon your attempt at a peaceful existence. You know the critter well, it talks to you every hour of every day, it spreads fear, uncertainty, dis ease.
Can you imagine a more covert hiding place than within the mind of your adversary?